This funk holed up in my mind,
draining my thoughts and sexing my beats
From the lines to the folds on my skin..
with his smooth talk, I lay smitten,
Sweet chocolate knows no frosting
This man believes he got game!
Speeches in fold, caresses seldom told
with each grin and closed smile—
Like an appreciative purr, the shine on
my lips never faded—
Cash in wraps, cash spent—
for all now lavished in daunting ecstasy,
my mind never faltered, my heart was in
Reciprocal but my body never calmed…
This man was convinced that he got game!
Sweet lavender cherished on cushions,
Lies now culminating to howls
Clenched fists often tender, now moulded
Like marble…
He had it all, yet he had nothing—
From games to bliss—workable fortunes he blessed
lost in smoke, a psychology he thought he knew,
now an ancient illusion in the dark…
Just when he thought, he had it all, he was the game…
This man lost a game he thought he knew!
